Breaking Point
by DeathPoetry
Summary: Takes place a few weeks after 'Out of the Box'.


Author note:

English is not my mother tongue, so I'm really sorry for all my mistakes.

The characters in this story are a little bit OOC. It takes place a few weeks (maybe three or four) after Kate's death. Neal was in prison for only two weeks and is still working for the FBI.

I hope you enjoy it!

 **Breaking Point**

Neal was sitting by his desk. He was so god dam tired and his head felt empty. He couldn't think. He had hardly two hours of sleep last night, but the paper work couldn't wait, so he had to work. Without any hope of rescue he had accept this.

Since Kate's death was nothing the same again. Peter was still a little bit angry and disappointed about that Neal almost had run. That made Neal feeling sad and ashamed. He also couldn't sleep without waking up by nightmares about the explosion.

He was in prison for only two weeks but this was enough. Behind the bars were no one there for him, nobody cares about a man who had shortly lost his girlfriend. He had to handle all by himself. But had he really asked for help?

With a sick feeling in his stomach he stood up and walk to the coffee area. Peter was still working. Neal didn't see that Peter looked at him every few minutes. The conman was pale and he had lost weight, a lot of weight. Peter was worried about him, so El was, When Neal took the coffee in his hand, it was shaking and he couldn't stop it.

The coffee nearly fell on the floor, but Neal put it on the desk and went fast outside the coffee and outside of the building. Peter followed him. Neal was still shaking as he arrived. He sat down, his back against the wall. He put his knees against to his chest and pressed the head in his hands.

So, Peter found him. He ran to him fast and put his hand gentle on Neal still shaking shoulder. Neal flinched and looked up. Peter saw tears in his eyes and decided that this was enough. He helped Neal to stand up. Neal looked down until they are at Peter's car.

He had phoned El who was in Washington but Neal didn't seem to listen. It was quiet during the drive. Neal didn't want to talk so Peter left it alone. They're at the house, but Neal was still sitting in the car.

"Neal?" Peter asked.

"Neal, we're at home."

Neal didn't say anything and after a few seconds he went out of the car. He was still quiet when they went in. Peter guided him to the couch and forced him to sit down. Neal did it without a word. If the young conman was quiet, he was always in a very, very bad state.

Peter saw in his eyes and saw only a heartbreaking sadness. And also fear.

"Why don't you take a nap and I order a Pizza. You look like you haven't slept or eaten in weeks."

He tried to sound clam and not to show how worried he actually was.

Neal only nodded and lay down. He closed his eyes slowly. His breath became normal and he went to sleep. Peter ordered two pizzas and sat down in the armchair next to the couch.

With a worried face he saw that Neal's sleep became anxiety. After a few minutes he began to whimper. Peter went on his knees next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Neal...Neal wake up...come on buddy...it's only a dream." but Peter know it wasn't.

"No...Please...Kate. Please don't be dead...Please." Neal whimpered.

In Peter' stomach was a knot when he heard this.

He began to shake Neal harder but he won't wake up. His whimpers became louder and suddenly he was sitting straight on the couch, the stream was stuck in his throat. He breath hard and to fast, his face pale and in fear. He flinched under Peter's touch and went back in the opposite corner of the couch.

"Hey...Hey calm down, alright. Breath with me...In and out...In and out..." he said when Neal's breath became faster.

Neal only stared at him with wide fearful eyes. He blinked a few times and spoke in a soft broken whisper:

"Peter?"

"Yeah buddy...it's me."

With a little bit more panic, he saw tears coming up in the younger man's eyes and rolling down his cheeks. Peter couldn't stand it longer and pulled Neal in a huge. For a few seconds Neal was stiff until he laid his head against Peter's shoulder and began to sniff.

His fingers were crawled in the older man's shirt. Peter whispered some stuff, when he tried to calm Neal down. He didn't know how long it took but suddenly Neal was silent. The agent heard deep breaths. He thought Neal had fallen asleep, but the eyes of the younger were wide open.

Neal made no move to get away from Peter. The doorbell rang and he sighed.

"Sorry Neal, but I have to stand up."

He felt a nod and stood up to take the pizza. He went back in the living room. The conman looked up at him with sleepy eyes. They ate in silent. Neal didn't look at Peter.

"Neal?" He looked to the ground.

"Neal, look at me...please." and Neal did.

His face was pale-ones more-dark rings under his red sad eyes but the biggest felling Peter saw was shame.

"I'm sorry." The ex-con said quietly.

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"For what?" he asked confused.

"That...that thing before. You shouldn't see that. I'm sorry I'm worrying you but I'm fine, so you..."

He was cut by one of Peter's fist which hit the desk. Neal flinched violently.

"You're alright?" he asked in a dangerous calm voice.

The younger man swallowed.

"Yeah...you're the perfect imagine of 'okay'." He laughed bitterly.

Neal put one leg up on the couch to his chest and crawled his fingers in his leg. Peter sighed and sat down next to him. He put an arm around his friend's shoulders, who-to his own surprise-laid his head on the shoulder of the agent.

"Neal, I know that you're not alright. And for God's sake-it's normal. Do you understand that? It's normal to feel like crap if you lost such an important person in your life. You loved Kate and I can't even imagine how you feel."

Neal flinched when he mentioned Kate and buried his face deeper in Peter's shirt.

"Neal you have to understand that you're not alone. Never. You have Mozzie, El and you have me. And-if you believe it or not-you have Diana and Jones, too. We all care about you. We wanted you to be better. Remember one thing Neal: You never ever have to apologize for stuff like that. But I have. I let you go to prison."

"S'Okay." And then, very quiet: "I deserve it."

Peter wanted to jump from the couch and scream at Neal that this was a lie...and yes it was...such a big lie. But he stayed calm.

"Listen to me Neal. I know you blame yourself for this. But you couldn't do anything. What were you expect to do? Run into the flames and what? Burn with her?"

"Maybe." Neal whispered. "Sometimes I wish I was."

"Neal. Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"I know."

Peter pulled Neal closer when he began to sniffle. Neal buried his face in his neck and he feels the tears touching his skin. He let his hand go on Neal's back and made circles there. He held Neal close. Still, when Neal's body went limp.

He has fallen asleep. He let Neal sinking on the couch, stood up and took a blanket from the armchair. He laid it over Neal and stroked his hair. Then he sat down opposite in the chair and closed his eyes.


End file.
